


dream palette

by nattura



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pagan Gods, Secret Relationship, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattura/pseuds/nattura
Summary: “Am I allowed to make a request on account of a special occasion?”Soobin sounds timid, like he’s afraid Yeonjun would turn him down, but Yeonjun is merely amused. Soobin is usually far too demure, too submissive to make requests, and Yeonjun cannot help his curiosity.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 24
Kudos: 155





	dream palette

Soobin only comes around at night, when all of the other villagers have retired into their homes. He’s the only person who dares come to Yeonjun's temple past nightfall.

To be fair, they're right to be afraid. Yeonjun’s heard the old wives tales that swirl around about him; anyone who dares go to the moon god’s temple when his vessel was high in the sky would be met with death at every turn. Their village would face famine and the god himself would come down to punish the wrongdoer.

It's bizarre that such stories exist, seeing as he’s such a young god, but they are widely believed. For hundreds of years, Yeonjun does not receive any visitors past nightfall. This changes one evening, a tall hooded figure rushing into the temple near midnight, head whipping around as if to make sure no one had spotted them doing the forbidden deed.

The figure automatically has Yeonjun’s attention, but they quickly gain his interest when they drop the hood and reveal a handsome young man underneath. Yeonjun doesn’t get to look at him for long; the boy takes the stairs three at a time and throws himself at the foot of Yeonjun’s throne, folding his long body into a deep, reverent bow.

His voice is quiet but Yeonjun hears every word. He introduces himself as Choi Soobin, son of a bricklayer, and explains that his family is facing starvation. He sits and begs for guidance for minutes on end, so pitiful that Yeonjun struggles to listen to him after a while. 

Upon finishing his prayer plea, Soobin stands and mutters to himself that he hopes the tales aren’t true. This, at last, brings a smile to Yeonjun’s face. As soon as Soobin’s frame retreats back into the night, Yeonjun is up among his peers, cashing in a favor with the god of harvest and swinging by the god of prosperity for good measure. 

Yeonjun hadn’t shown himself to Soobin nor made any verbal promises to him, but he knows Soobin knows when he comes back a few weeks later, cheeks looking fuller and eyes brighter. He sits on his feet in front of the throne and thanks Yeonjun endlessly, singing his praises.

“I wasn’t sure if a moon god could have helped me, but you have and I will forever be thankful for that. I will continue to believe you, follow you, Yeonjun, because you have done a service to me that I can only repay in steadfast worship and unwavering faith.”

He punctuates the declaration with another deep bow before exiting. Yeonjun is struck dumb at the word _worship_ and everything it could imply, but Soobin is gone before he can show himself and ask questions.

That was a while ago. Soobin’s family lives comfortably but he still comes to the temple, although more frequently now. Their relationship has since...shifted. Soobin had indeed been steadfast in his worship, attributing all of his successes in life to Yeonjun’s influence and calling him all powerful, merciful, immaculate. He treats Yeonjun like a god, and for once in his existence, Yeonjun likes it. 

He’s not sure when Soobin's devotion to him becomes sexual, but once the ball starts rolling it doesn't stop. It begins with Soobin coming to the temple to tell Yeonjun about the various dreams he’s had. They always involved the two of them, Yeonjun's hands, and what Soobin called an ‘earth shattering’ orgasm, the pure love and warmth he feels emanating from Yeonjun making it more intense for him.

Soobin is embarrassed the first few times, but that soon wears away the more he visits. He stays longer, the explicit details come easier, and he is unapologetic about how worked up he gets while he recounts their dream meetings, shallowly rutting against his hand as he speaks. He ends every speech with a declaration of love and a thank you, but Yeonjun still thinks himself undeserving of Soobin’s love. Yeonjun may be a god, but there is nothing holier than Soobin.

Now, he comes to the temple and prays every night. He offers himself up, begs that Yeonjun come down and use him as he pleases. He asks Yeonjun to take the most indecent of liberties with his body until he’s trembling, crying, all used up.

“And even then I will find more to give to you because you are so venerable and deserving,” Soobin says every time without fail. He’s extremely convincing, and Yeonjun will admit, not necessarily with pride, that he has shown himself on occasion and fucked Soobin into the marble temple floors.

Yeonjun doesn't always come down, but he always watches. Soobin is a sight for sore eyes in his day to day life, but he transcends that in the evenings in Yeonjun's temple, a slick hand working himself over beneath his loose trousers. He’s prettiest when he shakes apart, lips pink and parted, gasps of Yeonjun’s name slipping through them. Soobin always, always sucks his fingers clean, and that, he tells Yeonjun, is when he feels the most complete, the most holy.

“Even more than when you’re touching me,” he had said the next time they met, Yeonjun's fingers in his mouth instead, “Because I know it makes you proud when I have orgasms in your name. I love making you happy. It fulfills me.”

Today, Soobin is glowing. He’d come into the temple excited, telling his god that he was meant to graduate the next day and move into the workforce soon thereafter. Yeonjun had been waiting for him, sitting on his throne in plain view. He couldn’t have been more proud of Soobin, and he tells him so.

Soobin grows quiet then, playing with his fingers nervously. “Am I allowed to make a request on account of a special occasion?”

He sounds timid, like he’s afraid Yeonjun would turn him down, but Yeonjun is merely amused. Soobin is usually far too demure, too submissive to make _requests_ , and Yeonjun cannot help his curiosity. “Of course you are allowed,” he says. 

“My Lord, if I could just serve you,” Soobin starts, and Yeonjun sucks in a startled breath. Soobin, likely afraid that he’s been impertinent, backtracks and starts again, “If you would allow me to service you, my Lord, as a thank you for everything you have done for me.”

Yeonjun doesn’t bother trying to conceal his smile. “Is that what my love desires?”

“Yes,” Soobin confirms immediately, voice completely resolute. “I desire you more than anything.”

Yeonjun stands, towering over Soobin. “Even more than your diploma?”

Soobin’s eyes do not leave the floor, but his voice does not waver either. “Leagues beyond that, my Lord. If I could just please—”

Yeonjun runs the pad of this thumb gently down Soobin’s cheek, letting it brush over the soft swell of his bottom lip. “Eager, are we?” he muses. “You know full well that I cannot deny you anything, but be patient. Let me have a moment to look at you.”

Soobin’s cheeks go pink at that. As long as they have been doing this, he still shies away from Yeonjun’s open admiration.

His bashfulness is endearing, really. Yeonjun wants to touch every part of him, to surround and envelop him, to possess him and all his beauty at once.

Yeonjun can see the exact moment Soobin retreats into his head, running away with his fantasies. His fingers twitch in anticipation, the need to shower Yeonjun in praises prompting him to open his mouth in a rare fit of impatience.

"Let me show you," Soobin mumbles — how much you mean to me, how much I worship you, how much it means to me that you're letting me do this — Yeonjun's mind runs wild with possibilities. Soobin leaves the statement hanging in the air, unfinished, almost as if he himself didn't know how he meant to finish the sentence. “May I touch you?”

Yeonjun widens his stance, fingertips light as he brushes stray hairs out of Soobin’s face. “Of course. My body is yours just as yours is mine.”

They’ve been over this before. Soobin would rather give and give and _give_ before he dares take anything. Yeonjun is going to make certain that Soobin will take tonight, so he lets himself be undressed and pushed back onto his throne. Soobin’s pretty fingers skate up his thighs, his lips following the path.

Soobin seems to be very excited about the idea of being subservient, mouth opening to engulf the head immediately. He doesn't bother teasing or waiting. His tongue sweeps over the slit and Yeonjun's whole body jumps.

“Soobin,” he gasps, letting his head fall back, letting himself glut on sensation.

His dick slides further into Soobin’s mouth, hot and wet around it as his tongue moves against it, and Yeonjun can’t help the moan that escapes his throat. When Soobin said he wanted to _serve_ him, Yeonjun assumed that he should sit still and let Soobin work on his cock. This plan goes awry quickly as Soobin takes him in further. Yeonjun can’t keep himself from thrusting, from seeking more, but Soobin doesn't seem to mind at all. He gags a little — a sound that shouldn't be attractive, but Soobin makes sound lovely — before he pulls back, barely phased by Yeonjun's cock hitting the back of his throat. He would probably be impressed if he could form any coherent thoughts.

Yeonjun cups Soobin’s cheeks, tilting his face up and bidding him rise. “Come here,” he commands breathily, and for once, Soobin doesn’t obey immediately. His eyebrows crease in worry and Yeonjun is suddenly reminded of why.

His throne. Soobin is wary of it, never allowing his body, in all of its mortality, to touch it. Yeonjun doesn’t know how to tell him that his throne is just as normal as any other chair, that it only seems intimidating because mortals have assigned some divine importance to it, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Soobin — Soobin who worships him and believes him to be the most sacred being in the Cosmos — wouldn’t believe him anyway. Yeonjun is usually conscious of Soobin’s fear, bending down to reward him with kisses, but he found himself so moved this time that he bid Soobin come up and meet him at his level. 

Beyond his general skepticism with all things concerning Yeonjun’s divinity, Soobin has never expressed a desire to be on top of Yeonjun in any capacity. Despite this, what they have is more than physical, it is spiritual, mental, and the both of them know that Soobin would do anything in the world for Yeonjun. All it takes is a gentle stroke of his thumbs over Soobin’s cheekbones to have the mortal climbing into his lap, albeit trying to avoid as much contact with the throne as possible.

Soobin gives in so easily. Yeonjun feels a perverse, overwhelming desire to own him, mind, body, and soul.

He’s rigid in Yeonjun’s lap, but that is easily resolved with a spine melting kiss. Soobin bends like a bow to meet him, the tension leaving him with every press of lips. And _oh,_ Soobin is so hard against his thigh. Yeonjun is amazed that even after all these years, Soobin still gets so worked up over things as mild as kisses and a few scant minutes with cock in his mouth. 

“I’m going to assume you came ready,” Yeonjun gets out between kisses. 

“I do not like to waste your time when I’m with you,” Soobin replies simply. 

“Getting to finger you is not a waste of my time,” Yeonjun says, then promptly laughs at Soobin’s needy little whine. “Come on, get undressed. I need you.”

Soobin does as asked and Yeonjun reaches behind the throne blindly, fingers finally gripping the canister of oil he keeps in there. Soobin is still mortal after all. Sometimes Yeonjun wishes he had been reincarnated as a god of sex instead so he didn’t have to do this, but the idea of making Soobin uncomfortable in any way has him dipping his fingers in the pot leisurely.

He watches as Soobin removes his clothes, his body pretty and lithe in a way that has Yeonjun clamping his lips shut so he doesn’t drool all over himself. He will never tire of seeing his beloved like this. He can tell Soobin knows what he is thinking, all but throwing himself into Yeonjun’s lap in shyness.

Soobin groans in dissatisfaction when he feels Yeonjun at his entrance with his fingers. “My Lord, I don't need—”

“Shh,” Yeonjun cuts him off, sliding two fingers into him. He’s only halfway patient, curling his fingers almost immediately, but keeping his wrist moving at a slow steady pace. Judging by the way he tries to push back on the digits, Soobin hates it, and that makes Yeonjun smile. “Maybe I just want to finger you, did you ever think about that, hm?”

Soobin cuts right to the chase. “Please fuck me,” he pleads. “Please, please, please.”

Yeonjun ignores him in favor of slipping a third finger in, and Soobin’s hand flies up to cover his mouth. “I could make you come like this probably,” he muses, tilting his head up so his lips are hot against Soobin’s neck.

Soobin sounds so tiny when he replies. “Please don’t.”

“Why not? You’d come again if I wanted you to, right?”

Yeonjun knows how arrogant he sounds, but it’s because he already knows the answer to his question. Sure enough, Soobin nods desperately, draping his huge frame over Yeonjun in embarrassment when he realizes how fast he responded. Yeonjun loves this part; the power, the influence, and how Soobin reacts to the both of them knowing how readily he gives himself up. The total control is just as exhilarating now as it is every other time.

Yeonjun clutches Soobin to his body as he leans over to dip his fingers in oil again, this time for his cock. Soobin breathes a sigh of relief, raising himself up long enough for Yeonjun to coat his cock with the lubricant before sinking down onto him with his lips slightly parted.

Soobin goes completely still, waiting. Yeonjun is so amused by this, by Soobin’s fall back into their usual routine, and he can’t keep the mirth out of his voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be _servicing_ me?”

Soobin turns so red so fast that he might go a bit dizzy, but he forces himself into motion, rocking his hips in tiny, unsure circles. Yeonjun watches him, dazed, pleased, but still steps ahead of him this time. 

Soobin doesn’t know how to not get fucked. He is so good at taking what is given to him that taking what he wants feels odd to him. Yeonjun knows this without Soobin having to say a word, reading him like an open book. Soobin can say it all he wants, but this is less about being of service and more about finally taking what he wants from Yeonjun, and he is so awkward about it that it’s endearing.

It’s such a Soobin thing, needing permission to be greedy, but Yeonjun gives it to him, loves him, wants Soobin to have everything Yeonjun offers. 

“You can be a little selfish, baby,” Yeonjun assures him, and he can visibly see Soobin’s confidence increase. He keeps going. “You can ride me. I want you to fuck yourself on me.”

It seems like explicit permission is all that Soobin was waiting for. He squares his shoulders and raises his hips before dropping back down, starting to ride Yeonjun with purpose.

“There you go,” Yeonjun praises as Soobin works himself into a rhythm. “Fuck, you’re fucking perfect, Soobin.”

Soobin chokes out a thank you before pumping his hips faster and harder, fingertips pressing into Yeonjun’s shoulders. He’s so determined and Yeonjun, despite having his cock milked to the sky and back, finds him adorable. With the way Soobin’s legs are folded underneath him for leverage, Yeonjun knows they must be burning, but Soobin just keeps on, grinding himself down into Yeonjun’s lap.

Soobin changes angles and there it is — his throat makes a little gurgling sound and he goes almost completely still, circling his hips so Yeonjun’s cock continuously drags across his prostate. He throws his head back and exposes the unmarked column of his neck, and Yeonjun is suddenly overcome with the primal need to bite Soobin, mark him and claim him.

He can’t do that, so he puts his mouth to use in another way, telling Soobin how good he feels around his cock, how he’s the most precious thing in the Cosmos and how nothing could ever compare to him.

“Yeonjun, please,” Soobin whines, voice soft and breathy.

“Look at me, pretty, I want to see you when you fall apart.”

Soobin can hardly do anything but fuck himself, so Yeonjun takes the initiative. He cups Soobin’s face again and presses their lips together softly. The small moment of tenderness makes Soobin even _shyer_ if that were possible. He tries to turn his head away after they break the kiss, but Yeonjun doesn’t let him. “Ah ah, look at me. Eyes on me,” he practically purrs at Soobin.

“Yes, just you. Only you,” Soobin manages to babble out between moans, and it's then that Yeonjun realizes that Soobin is crying.

“Tears, baby?” Yeonjun's voice comes out much gentler than even himself was expecting. “Why?”

“Love you,” Soobin says after a moment of hesitation, voice wet to match his eyelashes, “would walk to the ends of the earth for you. Love you so much, Yeonjun.”

It’s not the first time Soobin has said it, won’t be the last, but Yeonjun can’t help how his heart swells. Soobin continues on, words pouring out now, all of them half slurred as he rocks back in forth in Yeonjun’s lap, “You’re so good to me, you...you saved me, you redirected me to the right path.”

Soobin’s Adam’s apple is bobbing like that was really tough for him to say. Yeonjun hasn't _saved_ him, not really, but he figures that to say so would be a mood killer, something he wants to avoid even more so now that Soobin's gotten more desperate. His hips are working faster and he crushes himself closer to Yeonjun, craving skin to skin contact wherever he can have it. Instead of speaking, Yeonjun soaks up Soobin’s praises like a sponge and redirects his energy to pressing featherlight kisses onto Soobin’s sternum.

This time is meant to be about Yeonjun, yes, but that doesn’t stop him from wrapping a hand around Soobin’s leaking cock as he begins to fuck himself properly again. Yeonjun feels pride balloon in his chest at being able to make Soobin so wet. 

Soobin does his best not to come, but by now, Yeonjun is an expert at wringing them out of him. He trembles in Yeonjun’s arms as he dirties his hand, eyes screwing shut. Yeonjun kisses him through it wherever he can reach; chest, collarbones, chin, neck, all of it. Soobin comes down slowly, blinking at Yeonjun until he finally gets back in his right mind and kisses him on the lips.

Yeonjun is so happy. “Felt good?” he asks, voice warm as he regards Soobin when they break apart. 

“Amazing,” Soobin clarifies. “So amazing, in fact, that I want you to keep fucking me.”

Yeonjun is elated by how informal Soobin seems now, and even more elated by the half order that he would never turn down in a million years. He’s still rock hard and inside of Soobin, but he swiftly pulls out and instructs Soobin to kneel on the throne, his back to Yeonjun. He does as told, having less qualms about being on the throne now, but he stops himself from touching the back of the chair.

He answers before Yeonjun can even ask. “The Eight Phases. I can’t touch those.”

The Eight Phases are decorative projections on the back of the Yeonjun’s throne, one for each phase of the moon. Soobin surely knows them to be a symbol of Yeonjun’s power, but just like the throne itself, that is all assigned by human theologists. The meticulously carved stones are just decorations.

Soobin is so _mortal,_ so pitifully naive, and Yeonjun feels disgusting for the way it stirs him. He nudges Soobin softly, causing him to tip over and land on the back of the throne. He guides Soobin’s hands to either end, one hand over waning crescent and the other over waxing crescent. Yeonjun hovers over Soobin’s frame, chest to back, and Soobin’s first response is to arch his back and present himself like a gift.

Soobin is a gift. To the world, yes, to his family, yes, and to Yeonjun most of all.

Yeonjun slides home just as a full moon shifts into view, shining down on them from the open ceiling. “Stay with me, love,” he whispers, mouth right next to Soobin’s ear.

Soobin has just enough time to whimper before Yeonjun starts fucking him in earnest, fingers entwined with Soobin’s on the edge of the throne. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have been agonizing over this for weeks and it is my first proper txt fic so please be nice :]
> 
> thank you for reading!!
> 
> 200815  
> \- M


End file.
